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Byron Shire
March 19, 2024

Mandy Nolan

Mandy Nolan has performed as a standup comedian for more than 20 years. During that time, she has worked alongside celebrities such as Whoopi Goldberg, Ertha Kit, and Bob Downe. Amid a full schedule of live acts, television and radio appearances, a weekly press column in The Echo and a comedy course (did we mention she also has five children?), Mandy also finds time as a MC, presenter and conference facilitator. See Mandy’s Soapbox every week here in Echonetdaily.

Showing content from:Mandy Nolan

Mandy Nolan’s Soapbox: Reach Beyond

One in 12 people over 65 are living with dementia. Dementia is not a specific disease, but is a general term for the impaired ability to remember, think, or make decisions that interfere with doing everyday activities. It’s actually no longer called dementia, but Major Neurocognitive Disorder (MND).

Mandy Nolan’s Soapbox – Free Assange: It’s Up to Us

'If war can be started by lies, then maybe peace can be started by truth.' ~ Julian Assange. It’s a simple profound statement said by someone who knows that as a journalist the truth doesn’t set you free. It gets you locked up in solitary confinement in Belmarsh Prison. The truth can cost your life. Assange knows that too well.

Mandy Nolan’s Soapbox: We Need to Talk about Birth

Birth is magical. It is powerful and wild and beautiful and scary and miraculous. Until it’s not. When things go to shit, it happens fast and when your baby dies, your life is changed forever, but not in the way you were expecting.

Mandy Nolan’s Soapbox: Growing Mould Together

I love the smell of mould in the morning. Actually I don’t. It drives me nuts. Some days I’m obsessed that it’s all I can smell. It’s the smell of living in the Northern Rivers. The humidity and rain of our summer has created the perfect conditions for mould. Mould on shoes. Mould in my bread bin. Mould in the dark of my cupboards. Mould in the cracks in my bathroom. Mould behind the sink. Mould in me

Mandy Nolan’s Soapbox: My Motherhood Statement

I don’t mind having my ideas shredded. But criticism rarely stays there. It becomes personal. I usually don’t engage. I just let people fight it out with themselves. But I came across this one comment, on a thoughtful post I’d written, that enraged me. The writer accused me of making ‘motherhood statements’. That statement was like acid. I couldn’t let it go.

Mandy Nolan’s Soapbox: To Hall and Back

The February flood sent 2.7 metres of water through Corndale Hall. This water of biblical proportions reached to the roof. It wrenched the modest little building from its footings and set it free. It collided with a power pole and was broken into pieces. Such a violent and unexpected death for such a magical place.

Mandy Nolan’s Soapbox: Change It

66 millionaires earning almost a billion dollars put together paid no tax last year ... We celebrate people like this. But their profits come at a cost. It’s called poverty.

Mandy Nolans Soapbox: The careless and the cashless…

When I was a kid, every birthday I’d wait by the letterbox for a card from my nan. It wasn’t just the careful writing on the floral card wishing me the best, it was the $10 stashed inside. There’s probably not a person over 30 who hasn’t received birthday cash.

The gift of me

The images from my childhood Christmases play like a super-8 film. They are grainy and disjointed. A sad child with a crooked fringe is in the corner of the frame.

Mandy Nolans Soapbox: Two feet under

The internet is a very strange place. It does things to you when you’re sleeping. Today I was looking for an old article I wrote, so I googled myself. It was something I’d written on ‘feet’ as a soapbox in 2018. It came up as one of the first searches. But so did something else. I came across a super weird subject header in the google list. ‘Rate Mandy Nolan’s Feet’. What the?

Mandy Nolans Soapbox: Why We’re Stealing Bread Again

The other day I watched someone put their groceries back. They were at the checkout anxiously watching the tally. I know that feeling. It’s something I’ve done many times in the past. Especially when I was a single mother. It’s humiliating. Having to declare your financial strain by returning items until the number on the screen matches the numbers in your account. In public. Under pressure. Usually with screaming kids hanging off your trolley. 

Mandy Nolans Soapbox: Peace Today Peace Tomorrow

Why is peace so hard? As the assault on Gaza resumes I am reminded of the quote by Albert Einstein: ‘Peace cannot be kept by force, it can only be achieved by understanding’.

Mandy Nolans Soapbox: Climate is About People

What scares you more? The impact of warming by 1.5 degrees that results in drought, famine, heat stress, species die-off, loss of entire ecosystems and habitable land and 100 million people being thrown into poverty? Or a hundred or so activists in a kayak?

Mandy Nolan’s Soapbox: End Patriarchy. End Violence.

When I was six years old my father was killed in a car accident. By then I had witnessed countless incidents of domestic violence. I had seen my father physically and verbally abusing my mother. I had been locked in a room for safety, only to have the door smashed in with a chair. I’ve seen my mother pushed. I’ve seen her punched. I’ve heard her crying and begging. I’ve felt the fear. I’ve heard people whispering about me. I’ve felt the shame. 

Mandy Nolans Soapbox: L’appel du vide

I am scared of heights Which is ironic because I’m six foot tall. And I wear heels.  And I’m a Capricorn. It appears my destiny is to inhabit high places. It’s a weird fear. I don’t remember ever not being terrified. As a kid I don’t recall anything in particular that set it off. Except maybe Mr Fredericks, the old man across the road, dangling me by my feet from his verandah for fun.

Mandy Nolans Soapbox: Peace for Our Children

Children are magical. They arrive innocent and new, a chance for humanity to have a fresh start. An ordinary result of human biology and the propagation of the species. Nothing quite prepares you for the miracle of that moment.

Mandy Nolan’s Soapbox: We’re not OK

Everywhere I turn there are conversations about someone dealing with extreme mental health issues. Friends, family, young people, older people who are struggling. People reaching out looking for services that sometimes aren’t available, are booked out, or aren’t helping. We are sad. We are scared. We are worried. We are lost. We need to find a way through.

Mandy Nolan’s Soapbox: Praise the Madonna!

I love Madonna. Not her music so much. It’s not my jam. She’s such an incredible artist, that doesn’t matter. Because she is more than her music - she is iconic. I love her. I love how brave she is. I love how relentlessly authentic she is. I love how she doesn’t give a F. I love how she doesn’t listen to the dominant narrative. I love how she becomes the narrative. I love her sense of play. Her lack of shame. Her ability to stand in who she is and radiate positivity. It’s powerful. And it’s unique.

Mandy Nolan’s Soapbox: Hearing the Truth

On 15 October I woke up profoundly sad. Like many people in this region, I’d been committed to supporting the Uluru Statement from the Heart by campaigning for a ‘Yes’ vote. We ran a cohesive positive campaign that embodied the core value of truth-telling. But it wasn’t enough. The results were deeply shocking. It felt hard to believe that this modest request could have become such a divisive issue.

Mandy Nolans Soapbox: In the shadow of a coming referendum – the light of progress

On 15 October I hope this country wakes up with a ‘Yes’ for the Voice referendum. In putting forward my view, I have been savagely trolled. I’ve had some opportunistic ‘No’ people use my platform to prosecute their agenda. I have not gone on the page of ‘No’ supporters. I have not abused them. I have seen the proliferation of misinformation and the use of fear and conspiracy to inflame uncertainty and to keep Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander people voiceless in our colonial system. So this week I have asked my nephew, Levi Murray, a Wakka Wakka/ Kubi Kubi man to share his insights.

Mandy Nolans Soapbox: Unbranded

I’ll admit it. I was a Russell Brand fan. I thought he was funny. I thought the sexually rampaging lothario image was just a clever comedic persona. I thought he satirised the privilege and legacy of rock stars.

Mandy Nolan’s Soapbox: Reach Beyond

One in 12 people over 65 are living with dementia. Dementia is not a specific disease, but is a general term for the impaired ability to remember, think, or make decisions that interfere with doing everyday activities. It’s actually no longer called dementia, but Major Neurocognitive Disorder (MND).

Mandy Nolan’s Soapbox – Free Assange: It’s Up to Us

'If war can be started by lies, then maybe peace can be started by truth.' ~ Julian Assange. It’s a simple profound statement said by someone who knows that as a journalist the truth doesn’t set you free. It gets you locked up in solitary confinement in Belmarsh Prison. The truth can cost your life. Assange knows that too well.

Mandy Nolan’s Soapbox: We Need to Talk about Birth

Birth is magical. It is powerful and wild and beautiful and scary and miraculous. Until it’s not. When things go to shit, it happens fast and when your baby dies, your life is changed forever, but not in the way you were expecting.

Mandy Nolan’s Soapbox: Growing Mould Together

I love the smell of mould in the morning. Actually I don’t. It drives me nuts. Some days I’m obsessed that it’s all I can smell. It’s the smell of living in the Northern Rivers. The humidity and rain of our summer has created the perfect conditions for mould. Mould on shoes. Mould in my bread bin. Mould in the dark of my cupboards. Mould in the cracks in my bathroom. Mould behind the sink. Mould in me

Mandy Nolan’s Soapbox: My Motherhood Statement

I don’t mind having my ideas shredded. But criticism rarely stays there. It becomes personal. I usually don’t engage. I just let people fight it out with themselves. But I came across this one comment, on a thoughtful post I’d written, that enraged me. The writer accused me of making ‘motherhood statements’. That statement was like acid. I couldn’t let it go.

Mandy Nolan’s Soapbox: To Hall and Back

The February flood sent 2.7 metres of water through Corndale Hall. This water of biblical proportions reached to the roof. It wrenched the modest little building from its footings and set it free. It collided with a power pole and was broken into pieces. Such a violent and unexpected death for such a magical place.

Mandy Nolan’s Soapbox: Change It

66 millionaires earning almost a billion dollars put together paid no tax last year ... We celebrate people like this. But their profits come at a cost. It’s called poverty.

Mandy Nolans Soapbox: The careless and the cashless…

When I was a kid, every birthday I’d wait by the letterbox for a card from my nan. It wasn’t just the careful writing on the floral card wishing me the best, it was the $10 stashed inside. There’s probably not a person over 30 who hasn’t received birthday cash.

The gift of me

The images from my childhood Christmases play like a super-8 film. They are grainy and disjointed. A sad child with a crooked fringe is in the corner of the frame.

Mandy Nolans Soapbox: Two feet under

The internet is a very strange place. It does things to you when you’re sleeping. Today I was looking for an old article I wrote, so I googled myself. It was something I’d written on ‘feet’ as a soapbox in 2018. It came up as one of the first searches. But so did something else. I came across a super weird subject header in the google list. ‘Rate Mandy Nolan’s Feet’. What the?

Mandy Nolans Soapbox: Why We’re Stealing Bread Again

The other day I watched someone put their groceries back. They were at the checkout anxiously watching the tally. I know that feeling. It’s something I’ve done many times in the past. Especially when I was a single mother. It’s humiliating. Having to declare your financial strain by returning items until the number on the screen matches the numbers in your account. In public. Under pressure. Usually with screaming kids hanging off your trolley. 

Mandy Nolans Soapbox: Peace Today Peace Tomorrow

Why is peace so hard? As the assault on Gaza resumes I am reminded of the quote by Albert Einstein: ‘Peace cannot be kept by force, it can only be achieved by understanding’.

Mandy Nolans Soapbox: Climate is About People

What scares you more? The impact of warming by 1.5 degrees that results in drought, famine, heat stress, species die-off, loss of entire ecosystems and habitable land and 100 million people being thrown into poverty? Or a hundred or so activists in a kayak?

Mandy Nolan’s Soapbox: End Patriarchy. End Violence.

When I was six years old my father was killed in a car accident. By then I had witnessed countless incidents of domestic violence. I had seen my father physically and verbally abusing my mother. I had been locked in a room for safety, only to have the door smashed in with a chair. I’ve seen my mother pushed. I’ve seen her punched. I’ve heard her crying and begging. I’ve felt the fear. I’ve heard people whispering about me. I’ve felt the shame. 

Mandy Nolans Soapbox: L’appel du vide

I am scared of heights Which is ironic because I’m six foot tall. And I wear heels.  And I’m a Capricorn. It appears my destiny is to inhabit high places. It’s a weird fear. I don’t remember ever not being terrified. As a kid I don’t recall anything in particular that set it off. Except maybe Mr Fredericks, the old man across the road, dangling me by my feet from his verandah for fun.

Mandy Nolans Soapbox: Peace for Our Children

Children are magical. They arrive innocent and new, a chance for humanity to have a fresh start. An ordinary result of human biology and the propagation of the species. Nothing quite prepares you for the miracle of that moment.

Mandy Nolan’s Soapbox: We’re not OK

Everywhere I turn there are conversations about someone dealing with extreme mental health issues. Friends, family, young people, older people who are struggling. People reaching out looking for services that sometimes aren’t available, are booked out, or aren’t helping. We are sad. We are scared. We are worried. We are lost. We need to find a way through.

Mandy Nolan’s Soapbox: Praise the Madonna!

I love Madonna. Not her music so much. It’s not my jam. She’s such an incredible artist, that doesn’t matter. Because she is more than her music - she is iconic. I love her. I love how brave she is. I love how relentlessly authentic she is. I love how she doesn’t give a F. I love how she doesn’t listen to the dominant narrative. I love how she becomes the narrative. I love her sense of play. Her lack of shame. Her ability to stand in who she is and radiate positivity. It’s powerful. And it’s unique.

Mandy Nolan’s Soapbox: Hearing the Truth

On 15 October I woke up profoundly sad. Like many people in this region, I’d been committed to supporting the Uluru Statement from the Heart by campaigning for a ‘Yes’ vote. We ran a cohesive positive campaign that embodied the core value of truth-telling. But it wasn’t enough. The results were deeply shocking. It felt hard to believe that this modest request could have become such a divisive issue.

Mandy Nolans Soapbox: In the shadow of a coming referendum – the light of progress

On 15 October I hope this country wakes up with a ‘Yes’ for the Voice referendum. In putting forward my view, I have been savagely trolled. I’ve had some opportunistic ‘No’ people use my platform to prosecute their agenda. I have not gone on the page of ‘No’ supporters. I have not abused them. I have seen the proliferation of misinformation and the use of fear and conspiracy to inflame uncertainty and to keep Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander people voiceless in our colonial system. So this week I have asked my nephew, Levi Murray, a Wakka Wakka/ Kubi Kubi man to share his insights.

Mandy Nolans Soapbox: Unbranded

I’ll admit it. I was a Russell Brand fan. I thought he was funny. I thought the sexually rampaging lothario image was just a clever comedic persona. I thought he satirised the privilege and legacy of rock stars.
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